Never Thought That We'd Be Vampires
by Black Raven 2539
Summary: Never thought that we'd be vampires, after all, who believes in them anyway? We always thought we were gonna die by some horrid disease, turns out that wasn't the case. But now were changed, and now the world around us has a new light shined upon it. Only one thing we regret, as a vampires...we sparkle, although some people of our group don't mind it. I kinda do.
1. Chapter 1

Ahhh. East Village, New York City, Christmas Eve 1989, and just around eight thirty. Where the crime rate is high, the winter's cold, garbage and the homeless litter every street block, drug pushers, junkies and fellow bohemians walk the street. Ahhh, welcome home. The warm cab warms me to my bones, and I'm glad for it. I re adjust my duffle bag on my shoulders comfortably. I slouch a little in the back seat as I pull out a joint out of the cigarette pack from my pocket. I pat my other pocket finding my lighter.

The driver looks back in the rear view mirror and says "Hey, no smoking in my cab, especially that. I could get in trouble for that." I put the joint between my lips and light it, ignoring him. I take a puff and readjust myself. I look at the distance counter and then to the major bucks its stacking up. Fifty fucking dollars! I don't even have any money to begin with. So, why did I even get into a cab? Oh right because I didn't want to walk from the fucking airport in some damn below twenty degrees weather. Oh well, I hope he has a merry Christmas despite the little gift he's about to give me… a free cab ride. His eyes looks back again. "Hey! I said no smoking!" I roll my eyes. " Yeah, yeah. Oh stop. There's my stop up here." I point up ahead. We stop on the corner of E 10th street and 1st Avenue. I make him stop a couple of streets down from my real destination, planning on what I'm about to do with the next wheel in motion of my scheme. The driver pulls up to the side walk and turn saying " That'll be fifty even." He looks mad. Oh fucking well. He's gonna be even madder when he realizes he doesn't get fifty bucks. Geez. I didn't know it'll cost that much from a ride from the airport. Well, not that its gonna affect me in any way. " Ok, ok let me get it." I say as I open the car door and step out nonchalantly. "Hey! What the fuck! Where are you going? You forgot to freaking pay me!" The driver yells. "Merry Christmas!" I say as I look at him and slam the door of the cab and take off down the street. "Hey! You little punk! Gimme my damn money!"

I hear the cab driver yell as I hear his tires squeal against the pavement. " Oh shit!" I chuckle, as I duck behind an alley. Yep, that was my scheme. To freaking run, it was fun though. A little anarchy never hurt anybody on Christmas Eve. Except when you are on the receiving end. I take several of my well known alleys to the flat, and overall effectively losing the cab driver. " Oh fuck!" I realize that my joint is no longer in my mouth. I look around for it, but in the end not finding it. " Damn it, that was my last one too. Oh well, I'll just get some more in the morning. Betcha a homeless guy will be having a blast with my last joint." I grumble. I start back off towards the flat emerging from the alley into the street. I reach the rigged payphone I had set up a long time ago. A payphone that you don't have to pay to use. Ironic huh? Well, why pay when a computer genius can make it free for the people of Avenue A? The government sure as hell doesn't need anymore money, we people of Avenue A should at least keep the little bit we have.

I pick up the phone and dial a familiar number. On the first ring, someone picks up, and I realize its Mark's voice. "Hey, guess who's back in town? It's Collins, man. Throw down the key. Cool." I hang up and walk across the street and look up at the fourth floor balcony. Mark appears "Hey" he yells out as he tosses the key and goes back inside.

I reach out expectantly to reach and grab the keys but they slip through my fingers.

I bend down and grab them off the pavement. I shiver when my bare fingers touch the cold ground. I stand back up and instantly three guys surround me, one holding a bat. Uh oh this can't be good. " Hey got a light?" The one in the middle asks. I reach into my pocket acting nonchalant about it. Maybe they really just need a light, and weren't gonna do what I think they are gonna do. The man to the left suddenly grabs my duffle bag, trying to yank it off my shoulders. " Gimme that shit!" the one in the middle yells as he grabs my front. I push of the guy in the front, making him let go of my shirt and shoving my duffle bag in the face of the on to my left. The guy on the right of me with the bat comes at me, so I do the only thing I can do. I punch the guy square in the jaw, and a thud erupts when my big fist connects with his head. I see him bend over in pain as I start running away. Now, I run. Usually I could've fought my way out of it, but three with a bat against one just wasn't fair. "Get that son of a bitch!" one yells as they see me zoom off across the street. Fight or flight response kicks in and adrenaline pumps in my disease riddled veins as I take off down an alley. I make it about half way through, when my stupid self decides to look back to see if they are chasing me, and yep they are. Why I continue to look back while running I do not know, because they see me as well as I see them.

I trip on some unseen clutter in the dark alley, and fall down at full force. Oh shit is all I can think before they (as in the bastards are mugging and beating the shit out of me) pull me up against the cold hard brick wall and pin me there, and butt me in the stomach hard with the bat. I feel the wind rush out of me and instantly I feel the urge to vomit. I fall down. My head hits the cold concrete and I see double vision. Someone kicks me in my chest, and I cry out, the pain immense in my chest. I cough out blood, and my lungs are on fire. I gasp as another kick and punch to the face is added to my beating. I involuntarily suck in a breath, and the sharp icy wind freezes my lungs. I cry out again, just as the final kick to the gut was given. I feel when my coat, the only thing keeping me warm being yanked off my body. But being to weak, and being battered I couldn't do any thing.

I get up off the floor, and warily look back to make sure they were gone. I push myself against the wall for support, as I try to get up back on my feet. "How do you stay on your feet, when on every street it's trick or treat and tonight its trick?" I raise my bloodied hand and raise it to my face and see that it was only covered with more blood. Just great. "Welcome back to town" I mutter as I stand up, only to regret it. "Oh I should lie down" That was probably the best choice, just until my head feels better. "Everything's brown, and uh-oh I feel sick!" My vision blurs and everything just fades into one color, brown, like the stain of my blood on my white flannel shirt. "Getting dizzy…"I say as my vision finally gives out, my knees buckle under me, and I slide down the wall…


	2. Chapter 2

This is Alex here, with another installment of this fic that has a really long title, to where I can't even remember it lol! Please support a fellow writer and review, and I promise this will get better. Promise.

I do not own Rent or Twilight

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(Angel's Perspective)

I beat on furiously on my ten gallon plastic pickle tub that serves as a drum, banging the edge on the hard concrete with my foot.

My face is crinkled up in concentration, something I don't need to do unless I want wrinkles on my precious face. A random person walks by and tosses a quarter on my tub.

I pick it up and put it in my pocket. "Merry Christmas" I say before continuing to beat on my drum again.

Today was a wonderful, awesome, great day, not because it was Christmas Eve, but also because I made $17.50 tonight. I continue to beat, using a metal trash top as a cymbal, hoping to attract more income.

_COUGH COUGH_.

I stop, intent on listening. Nothing. Oh well, although I could have sworn I heard something or someone. I go back to beating on my pickle tub.

_COUGH COUGH._

Okay now I know I had heard something that time. Me and my inquisitive personality get the better of me. I sometimes do reckless things but oh well, I can't afford to live another day with regrets.

I pick up my pickle tub and backpack and start searching for that sound again.

_COUGH COUGH._

I head down a forsaken dirty alley, one that needs much cleaning. I head down the forsaken alley, but its not one that's not familiar to me.

I walk about half way when I see a body, slouched over against a wall. I quicken my pace, but wary still. But when I see it's a brutally beaten man, all reason flies out the window as I run to try to help him.

"Oh my God, Are you okay Honey?" I look at his face. Blood covers his mouth and nose, his jet black goatee glistening with blood.

"I'm afraid so," this unknown man, which I had a strange attraction to help, let out a shaky sigh.

"Did they take anything or…?" I inquire, seriously afraid for the well-being of this man.

He looks at me, and instantly his wide brown eyes capture my heart. I had never seen such beautiful brown eyes, even when they were filled with uncertainty and pain.

What is it about this man? "I didn't have any money, but they took my stuff."

I take out my towel hanging from my belt and try to wipe some of the blood off his face. He holds out his hand, stopping me from proceeding.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." He says, touching his nose again. Well, duh of course you are not fine, you just got mugged. I blurt out and hold my hand out to help him, not even thinking of my actions.

"I'm Angel." He looks at me quizzically, then looks at my waxed eyebrows and dismisses it.

"Angel?" this man questions skeptically. He looks down at his hand, covered in his own blood, drying with a burgundy cakiness.

"Friends call me Collins. Tom. Tom Collins."

Tom Collins? Like the drink? Now that's a weird name, but I don't judge. Tom Collins… it seems to fit him. Well, he trusted me to give me his name, a complete stranger.

"Come on," I say nodding my head in the direction of the street. I carefully pull him to his feet.

"Ahhh, sssss" he hisses as he stands upright.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

We start down the alley, but I don't want to rush him, but I kinda have somewhere to be.

"We have to hurry, I have a life support meeting to go to." I say as I support him. He looks at me.

"Life support?" I look at him back, "Yeah it's for people with AIDS, people like me."

Oh my God! Why did I just say that! Now he's probably going to run away from me! Stupid! Stupid! I freak out inside as I await his reaction.

"Me too." Wait, did he just say me too? On the outside, I was completely calm, but on the inside I was totally freaking out.

Omigod! He has AIDS too? How did he get it? Did he do drugs… no probably not, he didn't look strung out. How did he get it?

I babbled on to myself as I led him down to my apartment flat.


	3. Chapter 3

Do not own neither Rent OR Twilight. If I did own twilight, they would not sparkle... :[

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14 Hours Later

Inside the loft, 5 minutes before Collins arrive (Mark and Roger's Perspective)

Roger sat sprawled, lying on the couch, drinking blood from a plastic disposable cup.

Roger slurped loudly, not caring since there was no one in the loft except himself. Roger sat up just as Mark came in through the door with his bicycle.

"God, Roger, put that away. It's making me thirsty. I could hear you slurping that all the way down in tent city." Mark remarked in disgust as he crinkled his nose, smelling the faint scent of blood in the air.

"Well, its not my fault. I tried your way, not as good. Plus, I just got from withdrawal of this stuff, after trying your choice, I don't like deer, or bear or lynx from the stupid woods or reserves. I take human, thanks." Roger replies as he takes one last loud slurp from the cup and tosses it into the trash cup, with inhuman accuracy.

Mark winces. "Well, I'm changed…yes, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna go all out like Dracula." Mark says his golden eyes shining with anger and annoyance.

"Plus blame Maureen, she started it all." Mark mumbled.

"Yep, she bit you, then after you swore you weren't gonna drink human blood, you came home, saw me, and went all crazy, and ended up changing me. So, blame me changing on Maureen…sure Mark." Roger replies standing up, brushing himself off from the microscopic, and more plainly seen dust particles that riddled their duct-taped couch.

"I said I was sorry! Like a bagillion times Roger! I couldn't help it! Impulses! You were like right there, with a beating heart pumping liters of blood in your veins, red like rubies…" Mark exclaimed, his golden eyes wide with exasperation, then going of into more of a hungry trance.

"Well I said I was sorry!" Mark says snapping out of his daze.

"Chill out Mark." Roger says smirking, his red eyes looking at Mark.

"I don't even kill them, so quit your whining. Little sips. From multiple people. Plus I only target the homeless or druggies away from Avenue A, so no worries. I only drink when I have to."

"Roger, what are we going to do?" Mark looks at him.

"What?" Roger looks at Mark.

"Roger, don't you realize it yet? Collins is back. He's still human. Collins is coming over, whenever the hell he gets here. But you can't just flit everywhere like you do all the time, you gotta act human. And you need an excuse for your eyes. I've got these fake glasses, ya know like the ones I used to wear, so he can't see my eyes directly. He can't see my golden eyes through the glare, or at least when something's shining on it." Mark says angrily.

Roger looks at him, "Simple, I'm wearing contacts, duh Mark."

"Not gonna work Roger!" Mark says aggravated, looking at Roger like he's the most stupid person on earth.

"What?"

"No, that isn't going to work. Uh, except the part where contacts cost hundreds of dollars, you had perfect vision when you were human, so it wouldn't make sense that you needed contacts much less red ones, and the fact that we're dirt broke bohemians living on Avenue A. Did I put that into perspective for ya, Mr. Red Eyes?" Mark says matter-of-factly.

"Oh." Roger says now taking everything into perspective.

"Mark, shut up and just go with it, I doubt Collins'll notice."

"He's here. Mark says. Roger acts as if he was doing something… which was nothing.

* * *

Review! Please!


	4. Chapter 4

Hi, this was uperly long for a fic like this... also...

SONGFIC TIME! Play-by-play of a performance and funny commentary for our little roomates!

I don not own Rent OR Twilight!

* * *

(Roger's Perspective)

Two seconds later, the loft's door slides open and Collins steps inside.

"Merry Christmas Bitches!" he yells playfully as he holds a pickle tub in one arm, and slides the door closed with the other, with the keys in his mouth.

"Hey Collins!" Mark exclaims as Collins slips off his shoes.

"Your keys."

Collins takes the keys out of his mouth and tosses them to Mark.

"Yeah, 14 hours later! What the hell happened to you?"

Mark grabs Collins in a hug, rather too harsh, as Collins lets out an involuntary yelp of pain and flinches.

"Ah oww oww."

Suddenly Mark let's go, "Are you alright?" Of course he isn't all right, and even I can tell! Of course though Mark would know, he's the mind reader after all, the geek.

"I've never been better. Mark wrap up, you're freezing. Here."Collins says as he hands Mark the pickle tub.

Mark looks into the tub and I realize I haven't said a word to a friend I haven't seen in seven months.

"Oh, hi." I say to Collins as he passes me to put down the firewood he had in his hand. He turns around hunches his shoulders and mocks me, "Oh, hi? After seven months?"

He envelops me in a hug and shivers at the touch.

"Sorry." I say apologetically and Collins says, "Roger, you're freezing too. Good thing I actually bought you firewood." Then I realize how good he smells.

I feel his heart pumping the thick red rubies which taste oh so good.

I also smell the remnants of dried old blood on his white shirt although it clearly smells as if its been washed away by some type of super girly flower scented laundry detergent.

I glance at Mark, and his eyes meet mine.

I think _'This is gonna be hard, Mark. What the hell happened to him last night? You smelled it on him too right? There's a scent of another person on him too… what the hell did he get into?'_ I think knowing Mark is reading my mind.

His glare only tells me to watch of my instincts, we wouldn't want another accident… like what happened to me.

I swallow the venom that had accumulated in my mouth from simply hearing his heartbeat.

"You know what you need?" Collins says as he releases me, totally oblivious, (and that how he should stay), and walks over to Mark who is still holding the pickle tub.

"This boy could use… some Stoliiii." Collins says exaggerating the obvious bottle of liquor in the pickle tub.

We walk over to the small circular table in front of the worn out couch.

"This is a complete Christmas feast, thank you!" Mark holds up in his hand a pack of bologna and veggie sausages… obviously for Collins, since he's the only vegetarian in our whole group.

"You struck gold at MIT!" Mark yells excitedly as he is handed a paper cup from Collins. "No," Collins unscrews the top of the Stoli Vodka bottle, "they expelled me for my Theory of Actual Reality."

Collins face drops slightly.

Why would Mark ask that, probably knowing the answer!

Maybe he's playing part, but still!

"One for you," he pours vodka into my cup, "One for you," he starts pouring some into Mark's when Mark holds out his hand slightly, signaling that it was enough even though Collins barely poured any into his cup, "Oh, Wait!" Mark was never good with alcohol when he was human.

So I know he was playing part this time, because we know can't get wasted.

We tried.

We did lose some of our judgment skills, but we didn't get wasted.

But it took a hell of a lot of alcohol to do so,then we realized that since we were kinda 'not alive' we couldn't digest it, so we basically threw it back up. Kinda like a reverse hangover, no, actually it was exactly like that.

"One for me." He pours some in his cup as well, but a lot more than ours.

"So, I came home. Merry Christmas. Cheers." We clink our paper cups and downed our drinks…well at least Collins did.

Collins smiles with a new thought and says "Oh, I got a teaching gig at NYU."

The Computer Age Philosophy Professor smiles.

"Oh, so that's how you were able to splurge on us." Mark says happily.

Collins grins and looks at Mark points to him, with cup still in hand and says "Oh, no. Sit down."

I look at Mark with confusion as we do as we are told.

God Collins smells good. The smell of blood and alcohol wafts through the air, tickling my nose and makes my mouth water with venom.

I steer away from those thoughts as Mark glances at me. He smells it too.

Even his eyes look hungry, but he dares not show it.

How can Mark have so much control? I know it's bad to think of one of my best friends as an entrée, but smells so damn good.

Now with that comment (of course in my mind) Mark shoots me a death glare.

_'Damnit, Mark! Quit reading my mind!' _

_'Well, I would if I could, but I won't cause you're thinking about Collins as a appetizer!_' Oh yeah, I just remember that Mark can project his thought into someone else's mind if he wanted to.

Just another of those sometimes useful sometimes annoying as hell abilities Mark has. _'I heard that, and it does come in handy.'_ Mark projects in my mind.

_'Mark?'_ I think.

_'Yeah?' _He projects into my head while staring at Collins while he screws back on the top of the Stoli bottle,smiling.

_'How are we going to tell him? Are we going to tell him? How is he not gonna realize that we don't age, or I don't get sick from my AIDS? I mean are we gonna live in secret, watching them die off one by one? Are we gonna tell him, or are we gonna let him find out on his own? So far he hasn't notice mine or your eyes, which is good… I think.' _

_ 'Wait! Wait a sec Rog! Too many damn questions, too soon. We'll think of something. We got to tell him or let him find out, we owe him that much at least, then he can decide what he wants to do, run or continue to live with us. We got to, it's the only thing that's right.' _

And with that Mark shuts me out, totally ignoring my other thoughts towards him as Collins starts putting up things like our dirty coffee mugs, paper cups and beer bottles under the table and into the pickle tub, as he starts singing in a sing- songy voice.

"Gentlemen, our benefactor on this Christmas Day, whose charity is only matched by talent, I must say."

He finishes cleaning up the table and picks up the pickle tub.

"A new member of the Alphabet City Avant- Garde,"

he slides the pickle tub across the room and rushes to the door, his socks causing him to slide the rest there. What the hell is he planning? Of course now I'm the only one left out because Collins obviously knows what he's doing, and Mark's mind reading him probably, but choosing not to share, leaving me completely stumped as to what's going to happen next.

"ANGEL. DUMOTT. SCHUNAAARRRDDD."

Collins says dramatically and slides the door slowly, revealing a Latino drag queen dressed in a Santa's dress with zebra belt and tights with 4 inch black leather heels in the doorway, that walks in sassily, doing a couple of turns, squatting down in front of the table and stands back up, suddenly with a whole bunch of moolah in his… her…his…her hands.

"Today for you, Tomorrow for me."

Angel says as she starts walking towards me. Wait, that scent that was coming from Collins… it's all over him too! The scent of that other human was Angel. So this is where Collins was last night I'm guessing. She comes over to me, slaps the money on her thigh… and hands me it!

Wow! So this is a Merry Christmas, despite a surprise guest. Angel goes over to Mark and hands money to Mark also. I count my money… two-hundred dollars!

"And you should hear her beat!"

Collins says as he drinks out the bottle of Vodka, as Angel pulls out a pair of drumsticks from her belt and taps them on her thigh. Mark turns to Angel and asks

"You earned this on the street?"

He looks as puzzled as I was. I mean really how could you earn this much money on the street? Unless you did something like- Angel interrupts my train of thought as she continues singing.

"It was my lucky day today on Avenue A,"

Angel swings her leg and I get an unwanted look of white lacy panty- crotch.

"When a lady in a limousine drove my way."

She imitates a driving wheel with her drumsticks as she hops back wards towards me. I smile, because she seems to lighten up the room and makes quite a catchy beat, as I realize I start tapping a beat to how she's singing. She sat down next to me and said,

"She said, darling be a dear, haven't slept in a year,"

as she put her hand on my leg, and fanning herself with her hand. She got up and walked back towards the front of the room.

"I need your help to make my neighbor's yappy dog disappear."

She made a gesture like she was hanging herself with her drumsticks…wait what? Is she going to talk about how she killed a dog for money? Cool.

"This Akita Evita just won't shut up, I believe if you play nonstop,"

She jumps partially on the couch again in front of Mark and goes back to the front.

"That pup will breathe its very last, high strung breath, I'm certain that cur will bark itself to death."

She lies back on the table on flips off, her Santa dress flipping up, and again I get another view of frilly panty. Gross.

"Today for you, Tomorrow for me. Today for you Tomorrow for me!"

She walks over to Mark's bike, and half rides it across the studio flat, "We agreed on a fee, a thousand dollars guaranteed. Tax free,"

She sets aside Mark's bike and walks behind me, and plays with my hair, using her drumsticks like shears.

"And a bonus if I trimmed her tree."

She gets up on the coffee table next to me squatting up on it.

"Now, who would foretell that it would go so well?"

She looks at me and Mark and stands up.

"But as sure as I am here, that dog in now in doggy hell."

She kicks out her leg and points her drumsticks downwards. Doing a small pelvic thrust she adds,

"After an hour, Evita, in all her glory on the window ledge of that twenty-third story."

Angel starts dancing on the coffee table.

"Like Thelma and Louise did when they got the blues, swan dove,"

at that instant she jumped over Mark, landing her legs perfectly in Collins lap,

"into the courtyard of the Gracie Mews."

Collins smiles and laughs, seeming to like that a bit too much, including when his heart pumped faster and quoted skipped a beat.

"Today for you, Tomorrow for me."

Angel gets up and goes over to the metal counter we had, which was occupied by more beer bottles, coffee cups, newspapers, and hard liquor bottles. Collins gets up quickly and starts disposing of the trash that's on it.

"Today for you Tomorrow for me!"

And at that she start drumming the coolest beat on the metal counter I had ever seen or heard as she keeps up with the beat while spinning around!

TAP! TAP! TAP!

She jumps on the counter, which is at least three feet from the ground. What surprises me is not only that, but she starts drumming on the pipes above! Absolutely awesome! She jumps off and starts approaching Collins, swaying her hips in a sexy manner.

"Back on the street where I met my sweet, where he was moaning and groaning on the cold concrete."

She says in a sexy manner, sitting next to Collins. I look at Collins and laugh at him, sticking out my tongue. He looks at me and mumbles

"No, I wasn't."

At that moment Mark projected in my head,

_'Yes he was.'_

And I just snicker louder.

"The nurse took him home, for some mercurochrome."

Angel touches the tip of his drumstick to his tongue and laid it on Collins leg. Angel got up and started running towards one of the support pillars in our studio loft.

"Then I dressed his wounds and got him back on his feet, Sing It!"

She runs up the pillar and actually flips off of it… in 4 inch heels!

"Today for you, Tomorrow for me! Today for you tomorrow for me!"

He goes over to Collins and sticks his butt out, which Collins slaps back playfully. Woah.

_'Does he like him?'_

I think towards Mark.

_'Oh yeah. Some things I wish I hadn't heard. Or even try to hear… from both of them.' _

_'Okay, well thanks for not telling me, I've seen enough frilly crotch panties for a lifetime.' _

_'Eww, stop it! Thant's what Collins was thinking about! Ugh!' _

_'He he he, glad I can't mind read, huh Mark.'_ I laugh internally at Mark.

_'It's not like I can stop it, shut the fuck up Roger, you're giving me a headache.' _

_'Oh, and frilly man panties aren't?' _

_'Fwaaaahh! Don't speak of such things! I'm not gay!' _

_'Yeah, but Collins is, and since you can mind read, you are going to have to get used to it Every. Single. Day._' I laugh internally again and watch Angel again.

"Today for you Tomoroooww," Angel sits on the table and crosses his legs, and I see Collins grab his leg and spin him around.

"For ME!" Angel concludes, and we all cheer for the wonderful Christmas Presentation.

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Lol. Frilly croth panties...

:3

Review my darlings!


	5. Chapter 5

Hiya guys, and those who reviewed! I luvs you guys! Enjoy!

I do not own RENT or TWILIGHT!

* * *

Suddenly the phone rings and our recording picks up.

"SPEEEAAK" a voice of mine and Mark's voice answers monotonously.

"Hey Mark, it's Maureen," I slouch a little in my chair as I see Collins put a joint to his lips. He points to me to get my attention.

I follow his gaze and see the message that I already saw; the human Mimi from downstairs left on our dirty window pane. I shake my head, not wanting to go into that.

"…I don't think she knows what the hell she's doing. Just please baby just come over and-"

Mark shakes his head and gets up answering the phone.

"Hey Maureen! Hi!"

Oh God. Mark don't do it.

_'I have to'_ Mark said into my mind. _'I have no choice.'_

"Uh yeah sure I'll do it. Okay, um. Okay I'll see you soon."

Mark hangs up. Damn Maureen has him whipped… bad. However who could even resist her power of persuasion and manipulation? If she'd told me to act like a monkey and stand on my head, I wouldn't have a choice but to do it.

Collins stands up, taking a puff of his joint. "Can you believe her! I mean first she dumps me-"

"Ooh, Maureen dumped you?" Collins asks, handing his joint to Angel.

"Yes," Mark crosses his arms. "For a lawyer named Joanne."

_'Mark of course we know she dumped you, after she got a nibble'_

_' Shut up Roger'_

_'You know its true'_

_'So?'_

_'So she manipulated you'_

_'No she didn't'_

_'No, because you were whipped anyways, so using her powers against you were useless cause you were already putty in her hands.'_

_'Shut up'_

Mark once more blocks me as I internally howl with laughter.

Collins starts to chuckle, "Aww."

But I can't blame him. It's too damn funny.

_'Shut up Roger, or I'll tell Collins you like boys.' _

_'Don't be a poor sport, Mark. We all know Collins' got eyes for someone else.'_ I think.

I chuckle aloud and Mark looks at me in disbelief.

He turns back to Collins, "And now she wants me to come and fix her sound equipment!"

"Mark, you could have said no." Collins interjected, taking the joint back from Angel.

"I know." Mark looks away and start walking towards the window.

A wide grin spreads across Collins face. "Aww, that's cute, you still love her."

He takes another drag of his joint. "Yeah right." Mark protests, but we see it's a lie.

Once Maureen has you in her grasp, she won't let you go.

"You do."

Collins blows out smoke into the loft.

Angel comes up behind Collins and says something in Spanish, and Collins laughs… wait, when did Collins learn Spanish?

I'm in the dark because I only know one language, and intend to know just one…English. Angel whispers something in Collins ear.

I hear exactly what it is, but since I don't know spanish, it just flies right above my head.

"Oh, right! We got this gathering to go to, do you want to go?"

"When is it?" I ask.

"Life support." Angel interjects.

"On Christmas?" I ask.

" Some people don't have anywhere to go today." Wait Collins the anarchist, is going to a gathering?

"You should come." Angel says, as Collins looks at me seriously.

Apparently he knows I haven't left the loft in six weeks… except for other reasons. And the fact that April died. Which, actually now doesn't really depress me as much, because it's now a murky memory. All I know is that I loved her, a lot. Apparently she didn't love me as much.

"Knock yourselves out." I reply sarcastically.

Collins shakes his head at me disappointedly as Angel focuses on Mark who already had his coat and trademark scarf on.

"Well, Mark, everyone's welcome, it's not for people just with AIDS, okay?"

"Yeah, okay I'll be there, but first I have a protest to save."

"See, told you." Collins says as he imitates a whip at Mark.

"Whoopshh Whoopshh Whoopshh."

I smile and I see Mark walking towards the door in the corner of my eye.

" I'm just playin' with you boy." Collins puts out the joint, in the ashtray beside me.

"Well, it's Christmas, don't stay in the house all day." He does a double take of me, but not pausing to actually really look in detail.

"What's up with your eyes boy? They are red. Lay off the booze and dope for a while." He smiles and laughs.

_'I told you'_ I hear Mark in my mind.

_'He still doesn't know, it's cool.'_ I think back reassuringly.

"Alright okay Collins." I say even though I know he's far off the mark, but then again, who believes in vampires… until you become one.

He walks to the door. Angel pauses in front of me and waves. "Bye."

He says softly as he prances behind Collins.

I wave back and smile. I hear the loft's door close.

I instantly get up and flit to the refrigerator door, too much in a hurry to actually act human. My throat is on fire.

The smell of Collins and Angel lingers in the air, and it sends my throat into a burning ache.

I take out the packet of blood stored in a box in the back of the refrigerator. It's disguised as a meat container so, I'm sure Collins won't touch it.

I tear the packet open and pour the icy cold blood into a paper cup and set it into the microwave. I wait irritably as I wait for it to heat up.

DING. I open the microwave and get that bottle of Stolli Vodka that Collins left behind. I pour some vodka into the blood, and mix it with my finger. I take my finger out and taste it.

Once the blood on my finger touches my tongue, its like a cooling effect comes over my throat. The burning, fiery ache subsides, and the hunger slowly dies down.

Venom pools in my mouth, and a new burning occurs… the subtle burn of the vodka in the blood. I lay back sprawled on the couch and drink my lovely drink.

This what I call a literal Bloody Mary. I feel myself strengthen with every gulp, and the burning ache for Collins blood subside. What the hell am I gonna do?

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	6. Chapter 6

Hello! I updated! I do not own RENT or Twilight

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(Mark's Perspective)

I walk through Tent City, observing the homeless. So many smells, its almost overpowering.

Smell of smoke, heroin bubbling in spoons, car exhaust, car grease, burning oil drums, and the various smells of unwashed homeless.

I can't take it, so I just stop breathing.

I can take not smelling for ten minutes.

I evade patches of sunlight and stick to the shadows, afterall I don't want to sparkle. Why do we even sparkle? That's ridiculous.

I turn the corner and reach the building with graffiti writing over the door 'SPACE'.

I inhale again as I swing open the doors, to find an empty performance lot, smell just a bit better.

I see a few homeless scavenging for various metal parts, no doubt to sell to a recycling company for money.

I see someone standing over some equipment, no doubt the one I'm supposed to fix.

I walk towards her as she stands up.

"Hi. Maureen called me to try to come fix the sound equipment."

I start to walk up the stage and stop as a sudden image of Maureen… and her flash in her mind.

"Your Mark?"She asks.

"Joanne?"

So this is the girl Maureen cheated on and dumped me for?

She shakes her head and throws up her hands in obvious disappointment.

I grimace appears on my face as I continue up the stairs, and turn left towards the sound equipment.

"Maureen said she'd be here." I say to this girl, of whom I'm not very happy to see.

"Don't hold your breath." She says curtly.

I look at her with the rudeness she'd shown me.

"This is so typical." I say squatting down to take a look at the system.

But before I can even do that she interjects.

"I told her not to call you."

"Oh well. Can I help anyway?" I say, trying to be nice despite the comfort and the thoughts in her head, which were not pleasant.

"I've hired an engineer."

Wow. Well she just shot down my plane. I start to walk away.

"Great. Well its nice to have met you then."

"Umm.." I stop and turn to her. "He's three hours late."

I walk back up to the system.

"The samples won't delay, but the cable-" I hold out my hand.

"There's another way." I point to the microphone resting in its stand.

"Say something anything." She walks up to it.

"Test. One Two Three." She says, and I hear the problem.

"Anything but that." God, I hate when people do that.

You don't have to say test and count your numbers to actually talk into a microphone.

"This is weird." Joanne says.

No duh, sitting with your ex's new uh, girlfriend, whose obviously giving you the cold shoulder not weird.

But I agree with her.

"It's weird."

Hearing me repeat her sends her into uneasiness.

"Very weird." To just get on her nerves, I do it again.

"Fuckin' weird."

She looks back at me, and walks away.

"I'm so mad that I don't know what to do. Fighting with microphones, freezing down to my bones, and to top it all off I'm with you."

Touché, cause I feel the same way, but that doesn't mean I would actually say it to you.

Well, two can play at that game.

I get up and walk off the stage, walking to wards her.

"Feel like goin' insane? Got a fire in your brain? And you're thinkin' of drinking gasoline?"

"As a matter of fact," and I cut her off.

"Honey, I know this act. It's called the Tango: Maureen."

I do a dance to freak her out, just wanting to for the hell of it, and also wanting to warn her about Maureen, the good and the bad.

"The Tango: Maureen. It's a dark, dizzy merry go round. A she keeps you danglin'" I emphasize with my finger.

"You're wrong." She interjects but I can hear in her mind it's getting to her.

I continue.

"You're heart she is manglin'."

She walks away but I follow her. "It's different with me."

"And you toss and you turn, cause her cold eyes can burn. Yet you yearn and you churn and rebound."

With that last said she finally gets what I'm saying.

"I think I know what you mean. The Tango: Maureen."

I remember something Maureen once did to me. "Has she ever pouted her lips and called you 'pookie'?"

"Never." She replied confidently.

"Have you ever doubted a kiss or two?"

"This is spooky." She turns to me and asks,"Did you swoon when she walked in the door."

I reply guiltily. "Every time, so be cautious."

"Did she moon over other boys?"

"More than moon."

"I'm getting nauseous." I bet you are I think.

We continue on how we fall over Maureen and how she treats us, but yet we weren't able to not love her.

I look into her eyes for the first time.

They are crimson red, like they become when you are first changed.

It's a color you can't get in contacts.

I decide to show my secret as well.

_'She got you didn't she?'_ I project into her mind.

It's a little hard, since I don't know her all that well, but with our connection with Maureen it makes it easier.

Joanne looks around a little freaked more than I wanted her to be.

_'She got you didn't she? Maureen changed you vampire, didn't she? Well, you're not alone.'_ I look at her.

"Mark?" she whispers, clearly in shock I found out so quickly.

"So, she did it to you too?"

_'No need to blow your cover, speak with your mind. I've got that power, bad at times but it comes in handy. I can read and project my thoughts. That's about it.'_

"Yep." I speak verbally.

"I feel great now." Finally getting that off my chest.

I walk back over to the sound system as the phone rings.

I switch a couple of triggers on, and reverse the wiring, and a pop sounds out.

I get up and walk over to the mic, "And we're patched."

The mic echoes my voice.

Joanne looks at me with a new respect as she picks up the phone.

"Thanks." She answers the phone.

"Hey honey, we're… Pookie?! You've never called me Pookie." I just look down and smiled.

I warned her.

"It's fine we're patched."

I watch her as she ends the phone call. I mock her.

"Pookie." I say with the satisfaction.

"Shut up."

I turn away, satisfaction obvious on my face.

I walk away, projecting the word Pookie in Joanne's mind one more time before I leave to the life support meeting…

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